


Class of 2004

by c_r_roberts



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_r_roberts/pseuds/c_r_roberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everlark, high school reunion style.</p>
<p>Written for Day 6 of Prompts in Panem's Language of Flower's challenge, Hazel: Reconciliation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Class of 2004

Gale’s reflection stares back at me in the mirror. I jump with a start, practically piercing a new hole in my ear with the back of an earring.

“You’re early,” I say, slipping the earring through its proper hole and turning around to face him. To his credit, he looks great, wearing a shirt and tie.

Gale gives me a once over and shakes his head incredulously. “I still can’t believe you’re actually going to this.”

I shrug, quickly turning back around to apply my lipstick. Gale’s let himself into my apartment and my bedroom, and we’re good enough friends that this doesn’t bother me. Although a knock would have been appreciated; I would have been half naked 2 minutes ago.

“I promised Madge I’d go. I thought you of all people would be supportive of your girlfriend’s endeavors.” I give my hair a quick spray to make sure my long dark brown hair stays in its French braid I’ve constructed so that it lies over my right shoulder.

Gale continues to badger me.

“Who exactly are you trying to impress, by the way?”

I furrow my brow as I walk past him to my closet, pulling out my nicest pair of black pumps.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him nonchalantly, perching on the edge of my bed to slide the shoes on my feet.

When I stand up, fully dressed and ready to go, I give him a little ta-da! motion and he shakes his head at me again.

“I’ve known you since you were twelve and the only reason you’d be wearing _that_ to your high school reunion is if you thought you had something to prove.”

Okay, so maybe I am wearing a tight black dress with a peplum silhouette to fill out my barely existent hips. And so what if I’m wearing a push up bra for my other nonexistent curves. This proves nothing.

“Well, I always did have a thing for Mr. Abernathy, you know. I heard he may be there tonight, so…” I trail off as I step out of the bedroom and through the common living area into the kitchen.

I hear Gale give a hearty laugh behind me as he follows.

I reach into the fridge and pull out two bottled beers, holding them up to him.

Gale nods. “You’re not fooling anyone with that innocent act, you know.”

I shrug, handing him the beer and immediately taking a swig of my own. To be completely honest, I’m nervous out of my mind to go back ten years in time with a bunch of people I barely tolerated, let alone liked.

“Seriously,” Gale continues on, after sipping his beer. “You didn’t even date anyone in high school. What gives?”

“You mean I didn’t date anyone you knew about,” I wink. “I mean, I just told you about my inappropriate crush on a 50 year old man. Maybe there’s some foundation to that.”

Gale literally grimaces and I laugh at my own joke.

“Well,” Gale concedes, “whoever you’re trying to impress is going to eat their heart out. You look great tonight, Catnip.”

I smile, trying not to blush at a rare compliment. “Thanks, Gale. You look good too.”

He smiles back at me, and chugs his beer, downing the rest of it in one gulp. I watch, incredulously.

“C’mon,” he tells me, tossing the bottle in my recycling bin. “We’ve got a ten year reunion for a class I’m not even a member of to go to.”

I chug my beer too, hoping it helps calm my nerves.

In reality, it just makes me have to pee during the car ride over.

***

When Gale and I arrive at District 12’s swankiest cocktail bar, the location of the Class of 2004’s ten year reunion, I immediately realize this was a big mistake. We enter, and it’s like I never left high school. The same cliques that existed in high school are mingling only amongst themselves. Except now instead of being gangly awkward teenagers, everyone’s almost 30. Some of them are still pretty awkward. Including me; I still don’t have a word to say to most of these people.

It doesn’t help that Gale doesn’t have to go through the dreaded sign-in table, only being here as Madge’s significant other. Madge was our class president, and because of that, she’s responsible for throwing this little shindig. I was actually friends with her in high school, despite my inability to be particularly friendly. She’s been dating Gale, one of my only other friends, for three years now.

And so I present myself at the sign in table, deftly avoiding interaction with the couple in front of me, who I recognize as two honors students who were together in high school. By the looks of their name tags they walk away wearing, that young love is still going strong.

Luckily, it’s Madge who checks me in. This is good news for me because Delly Cartwright is the other class officer manning the table, and while she’s sweet as pie, I really need a drink in my hand to converse with her.

“You made it!” Madge laughs and hands me my name tag. “”Just in time for “Get Low,”" she jokes, nodding her head towards the reception room that’s currently blaring quite possibly the most offensive song ever.

I take the tag from her, immediately shoving it in my purse and roll my eyes.

“Thank God. I was afraid I’d miss it.”

Madge smirks, and tells me that the DJ’s exclusively playing songs from our graduation year tonight, but as she does, I see her eyes skim the lobby behind me.

“Did Gale ditch, or…?”

I give her a confused look. “He was just over there,” I tell her, pointing towards the wall Gale said he’d be waiting by. Except he’s not there.

I quickly spin around to check behind me, for some reason sure that Madge must have just missed him.

I end up spinning into a body.

That’s really all I comprehend at first, as I collide ungracefully into the person who was standing behind me in line.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so—"

My attempt at an apology for almost knocking this guy over stops short once I look up and realize who it is. Also, the hand I’d placed on his chest to steady myself after almost tripping over him jerks back like I just touched a hot stove.

He looks really good. Handsome and sturdy, with his mop of golden blonde locks cropped shorter, neater, than they’d been 10 years ago. Same baby blue eyes that twinkle when he smiles.

“Hey, Katniss. Wasn’t expecting to run into you here,” he laughs sheepishly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

I am sure my cheeks are a furious shade of red, and I feel like crawling in a hole. But we lock eyes, and I suck it up, giving him a genuine smile.

“Peeta. Hi. Sorry about that,” I breathe, finishing my apology.

Peeta grins. “I think I’ll survive.”

Peeta Mellark was my prom date ten years ago. More accurately, he was in my group of friends at the time, and after watching people pair off for months, and as the last two without a date, we decided to go together as friends. Completely platonic friends. Or so I thought until we ended up drunkenly hooking up on the after-prom camping trip.

Things ended…badly. Well, maybe not badly as in I hate Peeta Mellark’s guts badly, but definitely awkwardly.

Peeta had tried that summer after graduation to make something more out of what was essentially a one night stand, but I figured he’d just felt guilty and I let him off the hook. And I guess letting him off the hook meant not speaking to him for 10 years.

“It’s good to see you, though,” I tell him, just as Delly Cartwright squeals his name.

“Peeta! Aren’t you going to come say hi? You have to sign in and get your raffle tickets!”

Peeta raises his eyebrows at me and scratches the back of his neck as he looks over my shoulder at the perky, voluptuous blonde behind me.

“I, uh, will see you in there?” He half says, half asks as he holds up a finger to Delly, signaling her to give him a second.

I nod with a small smile.

My heart flutters at the look he’s giving me. So naturally, I stare at the floor until Peeta steps up to Delly Cartwright’s portion of the table. I listen to him greet her hello, wondering if she’s actually _that_ excited to see him or if her voice is just perpetually stuck at that octave. Like I said, sweet girl, but also kind of intolerable.

I turn back to Madge, realizing we still haven’t located Gale. Madge gives me a _what was that?_ look that includes a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

I don’t acknowledge it and pretend like she didn’t just witness me make an ass of myself.

“Did you find your boyfriend?” I ask, looking around the lobby again, which is pointless since it only contains about 6 people at this point. Everyone else seems to be enjoying the delightful entertainment inside, as evidenced by a semi-crowded dance floor jamming out to Outkast’s “Hey Ya.” Oh, 2004, you were a painful year for more reasons than one.

Madge shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “No, but I have a pretty good idea of where to find him.”

***

The bar. Gale, to his credit, has a drink waiting for me when I get there.

“Regretting this yet?” He asks with a smirk before handing me the bottle.

I roll my eyes and turn around to face the room full of former classmates. About half are on the dance floor, still trying to shake it like a Polaroid picture, and the rest are scattered among the tables set up along the walls of the room.

I sip my beer.

“Could be worse,” I answer with a shrug.

Gale raises his eyebrows. “How?”

“Cash bar?”

He laughs, and agrees. “Shouldn’t you be mingling or something?” Gale asks me, sipping his beer again.

I sigh. “Probably.” But I make no effort to move from where my feet are planted.

Thankfully, Madge appears, insisting that she needs a vodka tonic immediately. Gale, doting boyfriend that he is, gets right on that.

“Seriously,” she shakes her head at me, “I wish I would’ve known ten years ago when I decided I needed to pad my college applications with student council that it meant certain torture for all class reunions to come.”

I laugh sympathetically and ask if she’s at least done with her duties for the night.

Madge nods, flipping her wavy blond hair over her bare shoulder. She’s wearing a pretty one-shouldered green dress. “Yes, thankfully. Delly volunteered to emcee the raffle, so I’m a free woman.”

She looks back at the bar, and seeing Gale preoccupied with trying to order her drink, Madge peppers me with questions.

“So, how’s it going for you so far? Any unexpected run-ins?” Her tone is gleefully mischievous.

“You mean other than when you watched me literally fall over Peeta Mellark?” I ask, calling her out on her not-so subtleness.

“What?” she asks, smiling. “You’ve only been back a few months, I just want to help you branch out and make new friends.”

I give her another look.

“And by new friends I mean set you up with a really nice, successful guy who could end up being your future husband that you can make perfect little babies with.”

Madge decides to play it with a straight face. Even though I know she’s joking. She must be joking.

“I’m going to tell Gale you think like this.” And then I take a big gulp of my beer, because _wow_.

Madge laughs. “He’d kill me. Seriously, though, not that you’re going to have any trouble attracting attention, especially not in _that_ dress, but what’s the harm in letting me talk you up a little to a few people in the near future?”

I know that Madge means well, and she’s been a genuinely good friend to me since I’ve moved back to District 12 from the Capitol. But there’s something seriously annoying about a happily in love friend trying to pair you off like she just can’t stand how sad my life must be without a man.

But it’s not something worth making a big deal about, so I just roll my eyes and tell her to talk me up to whoever she wants as much as her little heart desires.

Gale comes back with Madge’s drink just in time to hear me say this. He shakes his head at his girlfriend, like he’s familiar with what we’re talking about. “I told you not to do this,” he scolds.

“What?” Madge responds, a little too innocently.

“All I’m saying is that if Katniss wanted a boyfriend, she’d go out and get herself a boyfriend.”

“And if Gale wants to get laid tonight, he’ll shut up now,” I quip, eager to cut the tension.

Gale gives me the death glare.

“That’s not helping.”

“Not helping you win the argument you’re having with your girlfriend about _me_?” I clarify.

He realizes I have a point.

“Yeah,” I continue looking back and forth between them. “I think it’s time for another drink.” I motion towards the bar behind us. “So when you two are done being weird let me know. I’ll be right over here.”

I catch the bar at a lull, and am served right away. In what probably won’t end up being my best move of the night, I switch to vodka. I’m preoccupied with jamming the lemon wedge to the bottom of my drink with the tiny straw when I hear his voice to my left.

“Hey.”

Well isn’t this a coincidence. I turn, leaning my right elbow on the edge of the bar, and smile at my new buddy Peeta Mellark.

“Still standing upright, I see.”

I smirk and hold my vodka soda up, rattling it slightly. “Probably not for long.”

Peeta laughs. I linger as he catches the bartender’s attention and orders a beer.

“So, um, did you fly in just for this?” Peeta asks me shyly, as he waits for his drink. He drums his fingers against the granite bar top.

“Oh, um, no, actually. I moved back to town a couple of months ago. New job,” I explain. Then I furrow my brow. “Did you really think I’d make a special trip just for this?”

Peeta focuses on the non-sarcastic portion of my answer. “I didn’t know you moved back.” He spins to face me, clutching his beer. “Last I heard you were a big shot lawyer in the Capitol.” His eyes flicker with amusement. I don’t blame them. Me being a lawyer is pretty comical. But it’s the general profession people go into when they don’t know what the hell else they want to be, so in that way, it’s perfect for me.

I shrug. “Well, I don’t know about the big shot stuff, but the lawyer part is right. I transferred to the District 12 branch office of my firm.” I don’t tell him that I did so because my mother has cancer and it’s just easier to be a few streets away rather than a four hour plane ride, but that’s basically the gist of my current employment and living situation.

Peeta’s blue eyes lock on mine, and I shift my weight, trying to disguise my squirming discomfort. There’s no explanation for my attraction to him—well, other than his undeniably good looks and overall charming demeanor—but he makes me nervous in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Peeta Mellark, the boy with the puppy dog blue eyes and the floppy blonde hair. Of course now he’s standing in front of me with his shorter, slicked to the side blonde hair, and he’s better dressed now too—with his nicely fitted slacks and wearing a dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms.  But it’s the same god damn blue eyes. He was a cute enough kid ten years ago, but now, he’s legitimately handsome. And he’s looking at me in a way that’s making my heart thump against my chest.

“Well, we’re glad to have you back,” he murmurs, finally breaking our gaze and concentrating on the finger circles he’s drawing on the bar.

I exhale and push the strands of hair I’ve left loose from my braid behind my ear. “So, what about you? What have you been up to…since graduation?”

Peeta looks up and smiles sadly at me. “It’s been that long, huh?”

I shrug helplessly. “Yeah, I guess so.” I swig my drink, not liking how old I feel.

“But seriously, what about you? Married? Kids? The works?”

Peeta snorts and shakes his head good-naturedly. “Not even close,” he tells me.

Then he smiles that sheepish smile again.

“Actually, I own a restaurant.”

My eyes go wide with surprise. Not that I should be surprised. But owning a restaurant at 28 is a serious achievement.

Peeta sees my reaction and immediately tries to temper my expectations. “It’s just a small place on the edge of uptown, but yeah, that’s what I’ve been up to.”

Peeta speaks like it’s not a big deal, but I can tell in his eyes that he’s proud.

“That’s amazing,” I tell him sincerely. “What’s the name? I’ll have to come by sometime.”

Peeta grins. “L’Embrasement. It’s French, obviously. On the corner of Victory Street and Main. Just uh, call ahead so I can make sure you’re taken care of.”

I nod, about to ask what that means in French, but we’re interrupted by Madge and Gale.

“Hey-ey guys,” Madge sing-songs as she grins between Peeta and me. Gale gives Peeta the obligatory silent head bob, and I hold my breath, terrified of what might come out of Madge’s mouth.

“We’re going to grab a table and hang out if you want to join.” Madge invites both of us and motions towards a table that already includes Delly, Thom Calloway, Leevy Johnson, and Bristel Callahan. I’m secretly impressed with myself for getting all of those names right, and even more impressed with Madge for not embarrassing me. Yet.

I shrug my acquiescence and Peeta says he’ll meet us over there in a minute.

On the short walk across the “dance floor,”—which is at this very moment really just less than ten people trying to dance out to Evanescance’s “My Immortal,”—Madge grabs my elbow and hisses that Peeta recently broke up with a long term girlfriend. I hiss back that when I agreed to indulge her little matchmaker fixation, that didn’t include embarrassing the fuck out of me at our high school reunion. Besides, she’s completely overblowing casual interaction between two old friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time.

Madge stops before we reach the table, out of ear shot of the rest of the crowd. “Fine. You’re right. I’ll lay off. But if you’re not calling dibs, I’m just warning you that I think Delly might be interested.” She smirks, staring at me, waiting to see how I’ll respond.

I feign indifference.

Madge’s grin widens.

I scowl, and our facial expression stand-off effectively comes to an end when Peeta arrives at the table with a round of shots for everyone. And that’s when we really start to party like it’s 2004.

***

An hour later, we’re well into a rousing game of Never Have I Ever. The reunion is still going strong, although enough people have left that the bar staff have broken down a few of the tables on the other side of the room. We barely notice, though, because finding out that Madge and Gale have taken ballroom dance classes together is much more amusing. I’m laughing so hard my abs hurt at the thought of Gale waltzing, and he looks ready to kill Thom, who innocently suggested that never had he ever taken a dance class.

I’m sitting between Gale and Delly, and Peeta’s directly across the table from me next to Thom. Bristel and Leevy’s seats are empty now, because they’ve decided to make their way to the dance floor. Usher’s “Yeah” has an undeniable gravitational pull of sorts, so I can’t say I blame them.

As our laugher at Gale’s expense subsides, Gale takes his turn and lamely poses that never has he ever graduated high school in 2004.

The rest of us groan, first of all because it’s a boring prompt, and second of all, because all of us have to take a drink except for Gale.

“Booooo,” Madge jeers, harassing him as she sips her beer.

We all drink, and Delly declares she’s got one.

She’s pretty drunk, and she looks around the table mischievously. “Never have I ever hooked up with anyone at this table,” she declares.

My heart stops. I’ve never told anyone and I don’t think Peeta has either.

My eyes dart towards Peeta subconsciously, and I catch a flash of his eyes on me before he looks back at Delly.

“What, you mean our seven minutes in heaven in Madge’s basement freshman year doesn’t count?” Peeta snorts good-naturedly as he causally swigs his beer.

_Smooth_ , I think, wondering if anyone even noticed he took a drink.

Delly laughs a cutesy laugh and flips her hair over her shoulder. “I would hardly categorize those minutes as heaven.”

I’m too preoccupied to try and figure out if she’s flirting with him or not.

The table laughs, and Thom declares that this is also a boring category because the only two people who have to drink are Gale and Madge.

Now Peeta’s looking anywhere but me, and I’m trying to decide if I should own up to it or not. My palms are sweating, and I clutch both of them around my drink.

“Peeta drank.”

Madge’s voice is soft, but clear.

Everyone’s quiet, and I close my eyes for a long moment, afraid to reopen them. Shit. _Shit shit shit. Shitttt_.

“What?” Delly asks, confused, after a silence that feels as long as the ten years that this secret has literally been kept.

“Peeta. He took a sip of his beer. As he was joking about you in my basement.”

Now the table is looking amongst themselves, clearly trying to pinpoint the partner in crime.

Peeta chuckles nervously and he looks like he’s about to say something—again, still avoiding my line of sight entirely—when I hear Gale mutter “Jesus Christ,” under his breath. Delly, Thom, and Madge look at him curiously, and I know he’s figured it out.

I exhale loudly and pick up my drink, taking a healthy gulp.

I take slight satisfaction in Madge’s jaw hitting the floor.

“What?” I finally say. “You know we _did_ go to Prom together.”

Peeta silently meets my gaze. He smiles ruefully, like he can’t believe a ten year secret is being unearthed like this.

I listen to Madge gape about not believing I never told her, and then I shrug and give the people what they want. The juicy gossip.

“I think we can all remember going to prom together. Peeta and I were each other’s dates. Peeta looked really hot in his tux, and we had fun at the dance. Then, if you recall correctly, we went camping and had even more fun getting drunk the next night. Turns out I guess I thought Peeta was hot in jeans and a baseball cap too.”

I pause, my mind involuntarily evoking slightly fuzzy memories of Peeta’s bare chest, a dark tent lined with sleeping bags, and his fingers nimbly unclasping my bra as our mouths sloppily crushed one another's.

“Katniss,” Peeta says softly, before I continue. He still looks pained, like he doesn’t want me to be talking about this.

“What?” I shrug, happy to snap out of my haze. “Isn’t that the point of this game? To get the dirty secrets out of everyone? I mean, I personally think Gale ballroom dancing is way bigger news than this.”

Thom snickers but otherwise, everyone’s still pretty focused on me and Peeta.

Delly’s staring at me with daggers. Hmm. I guess she really does have her eye on Peeta.

“Well, this game’s over,” Madge declares after more awkward silence. She leans back in her chair. “I mean, unless anyone else has had secret sex with someone else at this table, I don’t really think we can top them.”

I lean back in my seat too, crossing my arms over my chest. I knew this was going to be blown out of proportion; this is exactly why I never told anyone. Because it’s not actually a big deal. Friends sleep together all the time. And we’re not even technically friends now—we haven’t been for ten years. Although I guess I never really knew why we stopped being friends. Back then, I blamed it on distance—different colleges, different cities, different life paths.

So if I was perfectly fine going back to being Peeta’s friend after sleeping with him, was there something I had done wrong that made him stop wanting to being mine?

Peeta’s eyeing me carefully, and I can tell he wants to say something but isn’t quite sure how to say it. I give him a small shrug, as if giving him the okay to say whatever he wants. He shakes his head, his blue eyes dull.

“There really isn’t much to the story, sorry to disappoint you all. Katniss and I…we just decided we didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“Why not though?” Thom blurts, giving Peeta a weird look. “You always—"

But Peeta shuts Thom up with a stern look and one sharp shake of the head.

“We didn’t want it to ruin our friendship,” Peeta says wearisomely.

Gale gives me a pointed look.

“So. How’d that go?”

I narrow my eyes at him and scowl. Not cool, Gale. Good point, but still not cool.

Delly benignly says something about whether anyone needs another drink from the bar before last call, and pushes her chair away from the table, standing up with an apprehensive smile.

Thom and Madge simultaneously raise their empty glasses signaling they need refreshments, because apparently this news has just been too stressful for them.

I shake my head at Delly, and then she silently heads towards the bar for one more drink order. The crowd’s continued to thin, and the staff has even flipped on the lights.

Peeta stands up from his seat too. My eyes flit to him and he looks away from me when they do. “I’m, uh, just going to get some fresh air for a few minutes.” He looks to Thom. “Will you be ready to go in 15?”

Thom looks slightly surprised at Peeta’s request, but he shrugs and nods. “Ready whenever you are, boss.”

I’m staring at Peeta, trying to figure out what I did to upset him now, and feeling a sense of déjà vu. This is exactly how he’d reacted the last time we’d discussed our unexpected night of passion that summer after graduation—withdrawn and standoffish. Completely uncharacteristic of Peeta Mellark. It doesn’t make any sense.

Peeta walks by refusing to look at me.

I watch him exit the party room and I furrow my brow. I genuinely don’t understand why he’s so upset. So we had sex once upon a time. What should we really care if our friends know about it now?

Frustrated, I grumble to the people left at the table about it.

Gale’s the first one to call me out on it, actually. “You really _don’t_ get it, do you?” He doesn’t sound particularly happy with me either.

I look to Madge, taken aback, but she looks down at her phone.

I’m forced to look back at Gale, who shakes his head. “Katniss, you basically just told a bunch of people that my ability to tango is more interesting than sex with him. You walk through life with such a thick skin that you can’t even see when someone is trying to make an emotional connection with you. Instead you just turn it into a joke. But sometimes it's not funny, okay?”

His words are mortifying. And the tone of his voice actually makes me hold back tears.

“Gale, that’s enough,” Madge whispers, putting a hand to his forearm.

Out of the corner of my blurry eyes, I see him shake his head at her. “Someone had to tell her.”

“Not like this,” Madge criticizes.

It’s the confirmation vote that I’m an emotionally unavailable train wreck that officially sends me into the bathroom.

And isn’t it just fucking ironic that I made it through all of high school without crying in the girls’ bathroom just to end up the only pathetic loser with her mascara running at the reunion.

Madge isn’t far behind me.

She finds me in front of the sink, dabbing my eyes with a scratchy paper towel. I’ve taken a few deep breaths to calm myself down, and while I’m certain the alcohol isn’t helping the regulation of my emotions, I’ve at least stopped crying.

I see her in the mirror’s reflection looking at me with sad eyes.

“Did you know that he spent two whole months agonizing over whether he should ask you to prom?”

Madge moves to the sinks, turning around and leaning against the open space next to me as she digs through her purse.

“I sat next to him in English. He’d always come in with some different question or concern for me. It was annoying as hell.”

She finds what she was looking for in her purse and hands it to me. A q-tip. For fixing my eye make up. Our eyes lock as I take it from her. “But it was also really sweet.”

I didn’t know any of this. I’d always assumed we’d both agreed to go together as friends mostly because prom at our school was something you didn’t go to without a date. Oh, and there was a discount on tickets if you bought them in pairs.

“Madge, I-” I start to explain, but she shakes her head at me. She’s not finished.

“Peeta liked you, Katniss. He liked you so much.”

I frown, despite the fluttering in my chest returning. Why hadn’t anyone, including Peeta, told me? After prom, I truly thought it was just a drunken mistake. On both of our parts. Well, not a mistake, really, because I didn’t regret it. If I was going to lose my virginity drunkenly at prom, then I was glad it was with Peeta. But I really didn’t think either of us wanted anything to come of it. And honestly, why would he have?

“Well then why didn’t anyone ever tell me that?” I question her, my voice rising. I’m not mad per se, but I’m still upset from everything else and Madge was supposed to be my friend too. Weren’t girlfriends supposed to tell each other when boys had crushes on them? So maybe this is all her fault.

I see it in her eyes that she thinks I’m trying to go there with her. She shuts me down immediately.

“First of all, Peeta swore me to secrecy. And believe it or not, I can keep a secret. Second of all, are you saying that he never once told you that he wanted to be with you?”

I think back, only vaguely remembering our conversations. When he asked me to prom, I was by my locker at the end of the school day. He came up to me and asked if I’d bought my dress yet. I told him I probably wasn’t going. Then Peeta said that we should go together, and he thought it’d be really nice to go with a friend. I remember being pretty shocked by this proposal, since I’d expected Peeta to have plenty of other romantically inclined prospects.

So I narrow my eyes at Madge deliberately. “He asked me to prom as a friend and even did a bit about getting a discount for buying the tickets in pairs.”

“So he’s an idiot too.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “But you never once got the inkling that maybe you meant something more to him? It’s just so hard to believe—we _all_ saw it.”

I turn away from her, looking in the mirror again. I feel guilty because I did get that inkling, when he’d asked me out a few days after graduation. We’d been awkward around each other until then, but Peeta’d sought me out, actually knocking on my front door. I’d been shocked to see him there, dressed in an 18 year old’s finest—blue jeans, tight fitting t-shirt, and a backwards baseball cap—licking his lips nervously as he asked if I wanted to catch a movie with him that night. Telling me that he’d had such a great time at prom, and that maybe we should really get to know each other now, the right way.

But I’d blown it off, telling him he didn’t have to do this, that I was okay with everything and that he didn’t have to worry about me. I was so insecure and sure that he was only asking because Peeta was trying to be a stand up guy and not make me feel used. Because that’s the kind of guy Peeta was. _Is_. The one who tries to do the right thing, even when it’s hard. The one who’s kind to everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. The one who always knows what to say.

Basically, he’s exactly who I’m not.

I don’t have to say anything to Madge, because she reads my face again and knows the answer. She nods solemnly. “You must have crushed him, Katniss.”

Well I know that _now_.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I take the q-tip and wipe the last of my smudged eyeliner away, squaring my shoulders as I straighten my dress. Maybe it’s time I stop being the person who shuts people out because it’s easier than making myself vulnerable. Maybe Gale’s right, maybe it’s time that I stop treating everything like a joke.

But I still have absolutely no idea what I’m going to say.

Madge catches my gaze in the mirror and gives me a half smile. Then she gives me her lipstick, knowingly.

“Put this on first.”

***

I run, well move as quickly as possible in three and a half inch heels, outside, ignoring strange looks from the last of the Class of 2004’s stragglers. My heart drops as I look left and right, finding nothing but a few people waiting on a cab. But then I walk towards the corner, and I find him.

He’s leaning against the wall on the other side of the building. The only light comes from street lamp on the corner, but it illuminates his face enough that I see him notice me.

“Hey,” I call out as I approach him.

Peeta doesn’t respond.

There’s a cool breeze in the early autumn night air, but I welcome it since my face is flushed from the alcohol and crying. I know it’s puffy and that I still look like a mess, regardless of how much of Madge’s lipstick I’m wearing.

“Peeta,” I try again, standing directly in front of him. My pulse is racing and my mouth is dry.

He finally looks up at me. His gaze does nothing to steady my pulse.

“I’m sorry for in there,” he says plainly.

I can’t say I was expecting him to apologize to me. Then again, what was that I was saying about him always trying to do the right thing and being kind to everyone?

But I can’t let him do that.

I hold up my hand, to stop him.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” The wind blows and an ambulance siren shrieks a few blocks away, but all I’m focused on is him. He’s backlit by the streetlight, but we’re close enough that I can see all of his facial features. Including the slight upturn of his lips.

“Look, Katniss, I shouldn’t have stormed out of there. It’s really not that big—“

“Peeta.” I cut him off again, more impatiently this time.

It doesn’t stop him though.

“It’s silly, really. We should’ve never stopped being friends and it’s all my fa—"

It’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of to shut him up. I lean in and kiss him full on the mouth.

His lips are rougher than I remember them being, but he still has the same inherent sweet, masculine scent to him. I feel his surprise when he tenses initially, but when I don’t let up, snaking an arm around his neck to latch on to him, Peeta returns the kiss.

But that doesn’t stop the total confusion on his face when I finally pull away.

“Katniss, what are you doing?”

Peeta’s wide eyes burn into my skin, making my skin tingle in a completely different way than his lips just did.

Have I completely lost it? This man is practically a stranger to me and I’ve just mauled him on a street corner.

Except he’s not a stranger. Not to me. And he deserves to know that.

So I swallow my terror and force myself to explain.

“I wore this dress for you. I knew you were going to be here, because Madge told me you would be, and everyone’s been asking who I’m trying to impress. Apparently everyone still thinks I dress like a tomboy, but that doesn’t really matter, because I was trying to impress someone.” I shrug with a sheepish smile. “ _You_.”

Peeta’s face softens and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I don’t let him.

“I’m not done.”

I steel myself and keep going.

“Since I moved home, I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe even before that. Because to be honest, maybe I didn’t fully realize it, but I had feelings for you back in high school, and at prom. After prom, too. And I think that since then, I’ve kind of just been running from them.”

I seriously can’t tell if Peeta’s looking at me like I’m crazy or not.

But I’m pot-committed at this point.

“And for the record, Peeta, we were drunk. The possibility of you actually liking me didn’t even cross my mind. I didn’t know that you were really asking me out back then. I just thought you were trying to be nice. I was trying to let you off the hook. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

I pause, exhaling the breath I’d been holding the whole time I was spilling my guts.

The smirk Peeta’s giving me in response to all of this is terrifying. He cocks his head to the side. “Are you sure you’re a lawyer?”

“What?” I sputter, horrified.

“Because for someone whose job it is to argue all the time, you’re pretty terrible at getting your point across.”

My mouth drops open. But then, as I stare at the ground, contemplating if it’s physically possible for the sidewalk to swallow me whole, I hear Peeta chuckle. And then he’s covering my open mouth with his.

Once again, the initial shock factor melts away quickly. Peeta’s hands grip my waist, and while not breaking his lips with mine, he picks me up slightly, spinning us so my back’s against the scratchy brick wall. It allows him to lean into me, and a sigh escapes me as I feel the full weight of his body on me.

Our kisses are urgent and needy, and our hands begin to roam to PG-13 places on each others' bodies. An excruciating heat begins to pool at my center, and I quickly remember why it was so easy for us to have gone so far, so fast, so many years ago.

It’s when Peeta’s hand holds the back of my neck, fingers intertwined in my braid, tilting it away from him to give his mouth easier access to my neck, that I realize this is quickly escalating to very inappropriate PDA.

“Peeta.” I whisper into his ear, scrunching my face in disappointment as his hot lips dislodge themselves from my neck, leaving me shivering. Except it’s not from the cold.

He pulls back to face me, with a wolfish smile and his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“You see,” he says, pausing to brush my mussed hair behind my ear. “That’s how you get your point across.”

Peeta chuckles at my expression, a mix of appreciation and disdain.

“I have a confession too,” he admits, still leaning into me as the bricks muss my hair even further. One arm rests against the wall next to my head while the other hand rests on my opposite hip. Despite the temperature, all I feel is warm.

I raise my eyebrows expectantly and he smiles guiltily. “I knew you’d be here too. And I knew you were home. I uh, just didn’t want to freak you out earlier. And I came here with every intention of doing exactly this to you.”

He kisses me lightly on the lips, and I blush furiously.  But then when he breaks away, grinning, I narrow my eyes at him.

“How did you—” but I stop, able to answer my own question.

Madge.

“What? Figured out that your source is my source too?”

I huff, angry at myself for not seeing it sooner.

“We got played.”

“I’m not complaining,” he shrugs, moving in to resume his work on my neck.

But I push him away gently, shaking my head.

“Wait, we have to stop this, Peeta.”

The look on his face almost makes me regret it, because he looks utterly dejected.

He thinks I mean I’m mad about being set up. He couldn’t be more wrong.

So I pull him back in for another kiss, relishing his swollen lips on mine for a few more seconds.

“You’re a better kisser now,” I tease as we break and I take in those blue eyes that might just completely unravel my resolve.

“I’m better at the other thing too,” he breathes into my ear.

I laugh and squirm out of his grasp so that we’re both standing upright on the sidewalk.

“We’re not going down that road again,” I tell him matter of factly.

Peeta’s look of horror almost makes me laugh. “Katniss, I wasn’t trying to imply…I was just joking,” he sputters.

I nod, smiling knowingly at him.

"I know. That’s not what I meant.”

“So what did you mean?” Peeta’s confused again.

“I mean that this is how we got ourselves into trouble last time. This, unthinking, drunken hot and heaviness.”

“I’m not drunk,” Peeta shakes his head, still not understanding.

I sigh, frustrated. I guess I really am terrible at getting my point across. “I’m not really drunk either, but at the same time I should probably go home and sleep off the three extra vodkas I didn’t need.”

Peeta rubs the back of his neck, looking less than thrilled at the prospect of me going home alone.

“Okay,” he responds, and I can see on his face that he’s wondering if that’s all he gets, some slightly raunchy kissing on the side of the street at our high school reunion.

“Okay,” I agree. And then I put my hands on my hips, waiting. We have a staring contest before Peeta exasperatedly asks me if this is it.

“That depends,” I tell him slowly. I’m not exactly enjoying torturing him, but I have to admit his confusion is amusing.

“On what?”

I shrug like it should be obvious.

“On whether or not you’re going to ask me out again.”

The realization crosses Peeta’s face like a wave of relief, and he grins like an idiot. I respond in kind.

He crosses the few steps between us swiftly and sweeps me up in his arms again, kissing me quickly.

His eyes search mine once he puts me back down.  “I have to work tomorrow night,” he tells me apologetically. 

I shake my head like it’s no big deal. “That’s okay. I think I can wait.”

He chuckles. “We could catch a late movie? I can sneak out of the restaurant around 11.”

I smile. “A movie sounds good.”

“So it’s a date?” Peeta’s eyes dance and I feel like I’m floating, although the significance of the term _a long time coming_ is not lost on me.

“It’s a date,” I confirm with a definitive nod.

“Oh, and Katniss,” he stops me as I ready myself to leave and go find Madge so I can tell her off and quite possibly kiss her at the same time.

“If you want to wear that dress again, I wouldn’t mind.”

I blush at his devilish expression. But I recover quickly.

“That’s okay. I’m pretty sure I’ve got something better lying around.” I smirk as Peeta’s eyes widen.

“That, uh, that sounds good…too,” he gulps.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow,” I agree. Because after ten years of waiting, I think we can handle one more day.


End file.
